


Where the Heart is

by Attorney C (arh581958)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, Fluffy, M/M, Moving House, Pining, Pre-Slash to Slash, Sexual Tension, UST, house hunters, naughty day dreams, possessive!Harvey (slightly), prompt, so much UST you can cut it with a knife, they actually talk, too afraid to say anything, u-S-t, witty!Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:19:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Attorney%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the track to becoming a Junior Partner, Mike thinks he is ready to move on from his shabby shoebox apartment and move on--in the world and from his feelings for a certain Senior Name Partner. </p><p>Harvey, on the other hand, doesn't think he should let Mike find a new place on his own. Who knows what kind of dump the puppy would pick out? After all, he's still wearing those damn skinny-ass ties!  </p><p>(Or: the story of how these two idiots realize that they're in-love)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Heart is

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #13 on [1stBonesFan_is_SterekGirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1stBonesFan_is_SterekGirl/pseuds/1stBonesFan_is_SterekGirl) found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4106725).
> 
>  **Warning:** boys are a little hot and horny for each other the entire time. Smut is at the end though. Also  unbeta-ed. All typos are mine. Please tell me!

"I'm thinking of buying a condo" Mike announced during their customary morning meeting. No, not _that_ kind of morning meeting, this one was actually held in Harvey's office on the fifty-third floor of the Pearson Specter Litt offices. He was on the track to becoming Junior Partner. As a Senior Associate, going-on his fifth year in the firm which has changed names so many times that he would forget it in a heartbeat if not for his eidetic memory, moving out of his shitty apartment in the Bronx feels like he's first step towards moving up in the world.

\---and, maybe, move on from the Lady Liberty sized torch for his boss.

It's been five years and they've moved no further than being, slightly closer than most, friends.

"What brought this on?" Harvey asked, intrigued. He sat behind his Senior Partner desk, leaning back with one leg over the other, wearing an open suit jacket which fans out on his sides. He glanced up to where Mike's perched half his skinny ass _on_ Harvey's desk with blatant disregard for professional ethics and personal boundaries. After five years of working side by side, often forced in close quarters, Harvey's grown to care less about it. Mike was, after all, not a stereotypical lawyer.

"I dunno..." The blond man shrugged. His legs were a little parted and his suite jacket was unbuttoned. He fiddled with his god-ugly skinny tie as he spoke. "It's... it's time to lay down some roots, I guess. I mean... this job pays me a lot of money, big enough to pay and even _upgrade_ Grammy's medical care without a sweat, so I got to thinking that I could, you know, go ahead and start founding things for myself... and the first step I thought of was buying property"

"Rookie" the Senior Partner sighed and rolled his eyes. "You look like you barely scrape enough to eat three times a day. I've been to that shitty little shoebox of an apartment where you, urgh, _live_. Let's be honest; it's a dump. It smells like mouldy feet, there are rats scampering in the space between levels, _and_ your plumbing is a disgrace to modern living. How do you manage _not_ to freeze your ass off when you shower in the morning? It's like a college dorm except with less used condoms and more pizza boxes and beer. And you think you can actually _buy a condo_?"

"Look... it may not be in the city or anything like your monstrosity of a bachelor pad... but a space to call _my_ home." the younger man gritted his teeth together and bit the inside of his cheeks. There was a foul taste in his mouth from wanting to sock Harvey in the jaw for being such a dick on a fine Monday morning. Instead, he carded his fingers through his short blond hair and sighed. "I get that you're not into personal stuff, Harvey, but I thought after working together so long you would be an adult enough _not_ to ruin things for me. I told you because I wanted you to _know_ as my friend. You don't have to be such a _dick_ about it."

Harvey's look of shock caught Mike by surprise.

It was like the underlying tension between them sparked into life; it made continuing the conversation difficult. There has always been something extra-ordinary about their partnership, not just the secret of Mike's recruitment, which bound them together, something _deeper_ that neither of them wanted to even acknowledged. They worked well pushing all those things--all those _feelings_ \--aside and progressing from their work-focused relationship to a strained friendship to a fraternal bond to---they never admitting that there was something else completely.

Knowing that he was somewhat at fault, it was the older of the two who broke first.

"Mike..." he protested, unsteadily, threading over uncertain waters as he spoke.

"No, it's okay, Harvey. I get it." his associate tried to wave him off but Harvey was a stubborn bastard when he wanted to and he did not want Mike to misunderstand.

"Mike, listen." He demanded firmly. It got the other man's attention to focus on him. "What I said was a little too mean and out of line. You're right. You're a Senior Associate now and you have a choice to make grown-up decision like moving house. I'm a little perplexed at the sudden turn of events. Two months ago you barely had a clean pair of underwear for the office and now you're talking about buying a condo. Which make me wonder why the sudden leap? Is it Rachel? Are you two moving-in together?" His chest constricted just as the words passed his lip. Rachel Zane, the love of Mike's life and the bane of Harvey's existence.

Mike laughed uneasily. "No, not that. But she might have something to do with it." he confessed. "My old place just had too many bad memories, ya know? I was thinking that I needed something new, something fresh, and I have a shitload of money which I have no idea how to spend. Unlike you, I'm not that picky about what I wear or what I eat... and I still prefer my bike over any other mode of transportation... The economy is looking good and estate value is down at the moment. So why the hell not, right? Nothing etched in stone so far. I've no concrete plans but it can't hurt to look around, can it?"

"Okay" the older man said with a nod.

The blond stared back at him with a funny expression.

"Okay... what?"

Harvey unfolded his legs and slid his chair closer to his desk. The action caused the side of Mike's thigh to bump gently against the back of his forearm. He linked his hands together and rested both elbow on the wooden surface. "I said okay" he clarified with his practiced _I'm going to close you_ tone. "I'll go with you... to look around and make sure that you don't get scammed out of your hard-earned money by the piranhas that call themselves real estate brokers. They'll try to sell you a sloppy place for a high-price or purposely fuck-out those in the lower ranges so you'd opt for the more expensive ones."

The young man waved his furiously waves his hands, palms outward, and blushed. "No, Harvey, it's fine. You don't have to, really... I can..."

"Mike..." the closer warned. He didn't want to use his secret weapons but this called for dire measures---he flashed Mike his _best_ goddamn puppy dog eyes that he had not utilized in ages and for a moment he was worried that he was too far out of practice to pull it off. Then Mike's entire face softened and he knew the deal was done. All he had to do was seal it. "Let me help you find your dream home¸ _as you friend_."

"Harvey Specter" Mike teased with a grin. "Did you just _close_ me?"

Harvey threw his head back and barked out a rumbling laugh.

"Yes. Yes, I did. Now get you skinny ass off my desk and get to work. Those case files don't solve themselves, you know. Scat, shoo, or do whatever you do when you're not bothering me in my office. Don't you have one of your own? It's the tiny thing that used to be _my_ office so I should know. But I distinctly remember solving more cases in the time I've been there than you have."

Mike followed in laughter and hopped off the table.

"You know that humility is a virtue, right?"

"It's not boasting if it's true, rookie. Now go!"

***

In reality, the thought of the kid leaving that shabby rundown building _pained_ him. He had grown accustomed to dropping Mike off after a long productive night of case digging. Sometimes they'd settle for Chinese take-away and really cheap beer from the mom and pop store downstairs. He has seen the younger man practically grow up _through_ the changes in that small confined space; less pot, less holey socks, but still no less skinny ties than when the kid first started. There was also the gag-gift stuffed k9 which he gave Mike on the first Christmas at the firm and the tux from Renee hanging in Mike's closet. A big part of him thought of that apartment _as_ Mike's home but what he really wanted was for his condo _to be_ Mike's home.

For this reason, Harvey found himself in Brooklyn on a sweltering Saturday morning despite having had a late night-out with a pretty young thing last night. He did not end up fucking her. Instead, they managed a few kisses in the main lobby before Mike's image appeared behind his eyes and he promptly pushed her away with a sad excuse but no apology. Needless to say, he'd be avoiding that club for awhile to let things settle down. He has not bedded a woman in ages. Not since he can invite the handsome blond associate in his condo for after-game beers and a couple of DVDs.

"Your late" is the first thing he said when he spots the said associate which caused him to spends his days with the company of his right hand. As per the norm, Mike's hair was plastered with sweat on his forehead, wearing grey pullover and dark jeans, messenger bag casually slung over one shoulder.

"You're---You're here." His blue eyes were wide with surprise.

Harvey frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?" he asked distastefully. Had Mike really assumed that he as a big asshole who made promises that he did not intend to keep? He had promised to help the young man find an adequate _professional on the rise_ home and this is the thanks he gets. He scoffed, barely hiding his bitterness over the whole situation. He squashed all those squishy feelings down and rolled his eyes. "Have I taught you nothing? You're late for your own appointment. Not a very good impression, Mike."

The other took off his safety helmet and pried the Velcro fastening on his gloves with his teeth. For a split second, Harvey imagined how those same teeth would look like on the zipper of his pants, he shook those thoughts away too. Bike parked and geared stowed away, they walked the short distance to the main entrance of medium height Brooklyn building.

"I convinced myself that the appointment was thirty minutes early in case I was late" replied Mike with a smug grin. "Pays off to have those college tricks up my sleeves, ya? My appointment isn't until nine which give us..." he glanced down at the clock on his mobile and reads the screen. His grin widened. "another five minutes until the appointment. I'd say we were right on time, Harvey."

A non-descript middle-aged man with balding hair and a ruffled suit met them at the door.

"Mr. Ross?" he inquired with a pleasant smile, zeroing in on Harvey who was wearing one of his three-ensemble suits but with a casual plaid shirt and cotton jacket. The lawyer was quick to back away. He recognized the same sleazy smile that he often used on lesser people. It was fake and purely proportionate to the unit they would be viewing.

"That would be me." Mike stepped up with a wry expression. "Hi, my name is Mike Ross. I spoke with your department manager last Thursday. Linda, Linda Brent, right? She said that I'll be assigned a broker for the tour."

The man did not bother looking apologetic. He merely flashed Mike a smaller grin and pretended not to roll his eyes at Harvey. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Ross. I believe you scheduled a private viewing. Your company?" he asked, gesturing to Harvey.

"Yeah. He's cool." the blond told the agent. "I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend."

"Not at all. Let me lead you upstairs." the man nodded.

The condo was on the second-floor with a long elongated rectangle layout that was similar to Mike's current box apartment. It was bare and opened to a foyer with a powder room. It stretched deeper into the kitchen, the dining area, then the living room. It had a two-floor design and the two bedrooms was on the upper floor; first leading to the guest bedroom, a common bath with a tub, the master's bath with corridor access, then ending with the master's bedroom.

Mike appeared sceptical about the steepness of the stairs.

"What do you think?" he turned around and posed the question to Harvey.

To be completely honest, the brunette wanted to dismiss the whole place from the moment he crossed the threshold; the finishing was poorly done with slabs of concrete that were not even sealed creating a dusty atmosphere, the plumbing used was substandard, and it felt too enclosed. The space was not that bad, as compared to Mike's old place, but it was barely a difference. It was like the developers stretched out the rooms into rectangles instead of a block layout. Then there was the issue of the master bath _not_ having access _from_ the master's bedroom. It was preposterous and completely defeated the purpose of naming it a master's bath. It should have been called 'slightly bigger' bath.

"The terrace is nice." Harvey quipped because there was literally nothing else that he could say without sounding like a pompous prick.

"That bad, huh?" The younger man grimaced and the lawyer nodded. "I'm worried about the stairs. It's the only way to get to the bedroom and..." he trailed off and glanced over his shoulder again to check if the agent was behind them. With the coast clear, he finished his sentence. "I don't feel like it's all that _safe_ , especially not for Grammy." he confessed, looking utterly dejected like someone had kicked his puppy.

"Perhaps a bungalow layout, then?" PSL's senior partner suggested. "That'll give you easy access to the rest of the room but, hopefully, will still provide the privacy that you're looking for. Do we call this a failure?"

Mike shook his head. "I prefer the term non-success." he said, making the older man laugh.

"And it's too far from the office, you'll be half-dead before you even reach the firm."

"Don't push it, Harvey."

***

They viewed a condo on the edge of Chelsea next, nearly crossing over to Flatiron, at the corner of 55th West and 17th Street. This one had less square footage and no exterior terrace. But, it was closer to the office. It had a square layout like Mike's old apartment; opening up with the living room to the right and the kitchen/dining to the left, the guest bedroom was first on the left which was adjacent to the common bath, and the last door was to the master's bedroom. The finishing was better than the first with clean white counter tops and black wooden cupboards. Even the bathroom was done in a similar minimalistic motif.

It was---nice. The U-shaped kitchen would enable Mike to cook _and_ host simultaneously by allowing conversation to flow freely beyond the sink. Harvey chucked to himself at the image of Mike in a _Kiss the Chef_ novelty apron with his threadbare shirts and, ideally, just his boxers when they were alone together. He'll order some stools for the counter and sit there while he distracts Mike from cooking.  Maybe, he'll offer up his more refined palette and volunteer as a taste-tester for their dinner parties. He would mount a large flat-screen on the wall of the secondary bath. Then a couch, a couple of singles, then perhaps a rug to break-up the space.

"What do you think?" he asked his young associate as they stood in the middle of the room.

It was too large though and felt empty. Mike was not used to having _so much space_. He felt like he would drown in the vastness of his own condo. Even with his brilliant brain, he could not imagine how he would fill the entire area on his own, and none of his current furniture would work. He had cheap crap that he mostly brought from bargain deals and pre-loved stores. This place felt too modern, too sleek, too new; it wasn't what he imagined at all. It was cold and lacking the distinct sense of home. There was something missing, something lacking, something _not here_ , and it bothered him.

"It's..." he really did not have the words to describe how he felt about it. "...big."

"Big?"

"Yeah." he admitted, somewhat shy for no apparent reason. The older man merely quirked up his brow in a silent demand for an explanation. Mike simply hunched his shoulder and listed the things on the top of his head. "The layout's fine. I like it better than the first one with the awful stairs but it feels a little _too_ _much_ like my box-type apartment, only it's _bigger_ like way bigger, and I have no idea what I'll put just to make it feel less like a showroom and more like _me_. I don't mind the view. It's definitely light-years from the brick wall that I see from my bedside window right now. But it's also not... I don't know.. it just feels so empty."

Harvey chuckled. It was not the reaction that he'd expected from the other man.

"Ease up, kid. That's part of the growing pains. It all starts out like this." He explained patiently. "Like you said, this is supposed to be _you_ \---the condo is supposed to reflect _you_. So an empty condo just means that you get to start from scratch, clean slate, blank sheet of paper, and you can mess it up any way you want as long as its within the building's parameters. As long as you don't want any major structural changes, I'm sure you'll be good to go. You don't have to be afraid of starting anew. If you can't picture yourself living comfortably in this unit then, by all means, look for another one. Take your time."

 "But what if I don't find the right one?"

"You will, Mike." Harvey reassured. He draped an arm over younger man's shoulder and patted him lightly. Mike became acutely aware, for the first time today, that Harvey _did not_ skimp on his daily rituals because he can still scent the man's cologne and aftershave in the air mixed with a scent that was completely Harvey. Then, there was the heat emanating through the layers of clothing. How the man managed to survive the sweltering heat without a drop of sweat was beyond him. He appreciated Harvey helping him, he really did, but the more condos he looked at, the less inclined he was to push through with the purchase.

He was afraid that it might alter the careful balance between them. The friendship which they equally fought hard to cultivate. A part of him, the side that was a love-sick puppy in love with a man he could never have, wanted to stay in his dingy apartment where the rare but important memories they shared remained. He had images in his mind of Harvey on his couch, sitting across him from the dining table, and a memorable one of Harvey looming over him while he lay sick in bed. His new place would not have the same memories and feelings like the old one.

Was he really ready for that? Was he really ready to let go?

They ended the day in their separate ways. Harvey was chauffeured by Ray back to his condo and Mike took the long route home so he could think. He biked for a long time, until the day light was gone and the streetlamps were lit. The outer key jammed up and it was a struggle to wrestle his bike up the rickety steps. It creaked and moaned underneath him. He opened the door and surveyed the space that he's called home for the better part of five years. But it was not _home-_ home. It was more like a place to crash in the recent years.

Home---

He began thinking that Harvey's apartment was home. He spent more nights there a week than in his own apartment. They were mostly because of cases which had progressed long through the night and ended up, one way or another, being brought home by Harvey who preferred to work where delivery wasn't an issue and he could walk about with bare feet. The first time it happened, Mike felt like a peeping Tom for seeing the slightly paler skin of Harvey's _bare feet_ padding through the carpeted floor. God knows how many times the older man cleared his throat before Mike looked up from staring at another man's feet. He almost forgot the Harvey was still human underneath those crisp three-piece suits and ever-styled hair.

Then, the sleepover began their own pre-game ritual. Ray would take a detour to Mike's building after a long work day before a case, and Mike would pick up his overnight bag and suit hanger while Harvey waited in the car. Once or twice, he caught his boss snoozing the in back seat with his head drooping onto his shoulder. Even in his sleep, Harvey Specter looked devastatingly handsome and _younger_. Music from Ray's selection of the day would play while they weaved through the Manhattan streets. Mike liked to pretend that he too had fallen asleep and, not-so-innocently, lean against Harvey's shoulder. The other man would gruff, initially, before readjusting his position to accommodate the added weight.

He tried not to look too far into it. Harvey could easily pass it off as an unconscious reaction or instinct to the physical contact. Yet still, it did not quell the feelings that Mike had for his employer. He realized his feelings after Rachel and for a long time had struggled with himself and his new attraction to the less fairer sex. No, that wasn't completely true, he was only infatuated by _that one guy_ who, quite possibly, was the straightest man-whore in the entire Big Apple, and it crushed Mike a little bit every time he recalled the faces of the women which Harvey paraded around him.

Mike kept coming back anyway, again and again and again.

***

A month after their, decidedly, non-success. Harvey and Mike found themselves in the school district near the East River.

Harvey had spent an inordinate amount of time researching good locations for a condo that was reasonable near their office. This one was recommended by Donna because she was listening on their entire conversation from last month and had the initiative to dig up some sites of her own. It was along Third Avenue, a block away from the river, no less than seven private school in walking distance. As if the ornate facade was not enough, the sight of a prep school uniform every five minutes was something to go by, and to top it all off---it had parking! Just his luck, because he rented out the new BMW for the weekend and generously volunteered to give Mike a ride.

The younger man was less enthusiastic about being forced to change into _adult clothes_ that did not make him look a pothead, jailbait, or like he was in college. It served a dual purpose; to give him more legitimacy to the agent and avoid the previous encounter's disaster, and so that Harvey did not feel ancient while walking around with a pretty young thing beside him. He hated it when people assumed that he was Mike's _father_. It gave him shivers and chipped his ego, so much so that he would nearly always book an appointment at the salon the day after.

"Mr. Ross and Mr.----Ross" the sales woman greeted. She was young, tall, and a redhead with a friendly face and way too much make-up for the morning. "My name is Sheila Penn. I believe I spoke with one of you on the phone. It's a pleasure to meet you both. I'd like to welcome you into our community." The older man coughed in an attempt to hide his blush.

Mike was less practiced and blushed like he was caught doing something nasty. "I---he---uhm, we're not, uh, married---" he stammered like a uneducated idiot, flailing his arms in front of him, but his embarrassed face did not help his cause, at all.

Like a seasoned professional, she did not allow her smile to falter and she gave them a knowing wink. "No worries. How rude of me. I apologize. Sometimes I forget that some still won't take the plunge despite New York's new laws. I, for one, was over the moon when they legalized same-sex marriage. My girlfriend and I were one of the first couples to get hitched at the civil office. She wasn't really into church weddings..." she rambled on and on as she led them further into the building.

Mike was beet-red by the time she finished and he was flustered.

"How long have you two known each other?"

"I---We---"

"Forgive him" Harvey cut in then shot his associate a quick glance. "He's not used to being... so _open_ about these things. Catholic All-boys School, you know how it is, seeing as this building is right in the heart of the prep school district. And to answer your question, five years going on six. We've known each other for about six years, give or take. Where did you meet your wife?"

Sheila's cheeks darkened. "Guilty as charged. Lucy and I were lucky. We were high school sweethearts. We went to St. Mary's Academy together." She opened the door to the unit with a smile. "I hope you boys to enjoy. The furniture is mostly for show but we can make arrangements for any of the pieces that you like. Feel free to look around. There's running water and electricity. I'll be back to escort you down in an hour."

The condo was L-shaped and opened at the juncture; there was a small entry way with one side leading to the guest bedroom and the kitchen straight ahead. The living/dining area was nearly as big as the last condo while the rest of the space was occupied by the master's bedroom which was separated via a sliding door. It was not slightly larger than the second condo last month and, on the 26th floor, the view was amazing that faced the Brooklyn skyline with clear sight of the East River.

"Harvey..." Mike complained with a frown. He crossed his arms over his chest while he stood in the middle of the space. "...why did you _insinuate_ that we were... together?"

The older man shrugged the question off. "Haven't you learned anything yet, rookie? I read people. I read her. She was a sympathizer and I used it to your advantage. She would have given you unit on the lower floor if we completely avoided her direction. Then she goes on a whim to talk about her own personal life during business hours in an attempt to persuade her clients. That tells me that she is not above using her own little sad story to get business in the past." he casually explains while walking behind the island counter. "Besides, I may not have your brain but I remember you doing the same thing on your first year as an associate."

"You know that was work and this is..."

"I just did what she did. I saw an opening and I took it"

Sighing, Mike tugged on this messenger back and strode into the dining portion of the room. He surveyed the space which was the large kitchen/dining/living area. It was light and air with large ceiling to floor French windows bordering the two sides. The developer had left the windows ajar for the open house and a breeze gently filtered through the condo cool and fresh with the lingering smell of Autumn. He could easily picture a warm September night where he could invite friends over for a small dinner---Rachel, Benjamin, Harold, Katrina, Donna, and---Harvey, all sitting around the table or sharing a few drink on the couch.

"Rookie?"

In a flash, he caught a glimpse of _what could be_.

They would each have their own separate walk-ins; Harvey's, he was sure, would be filled to the brim with row after row of suits, and his would be a mix between suits and his old comfortable clothes. He daydreamed about a gigantic king-sized bed that would topple Harvey's to the curb in the middle of the Master's bedroom. Dark purple Egyptian cotton with a ridiculous thread count and light white curtains that would stream in the morning light. He dreamt about Harvey debauching him all night as they Christen the new bed and test out the sturdiness of the bed frame.

Then, in the morning, he saw himself walking out of the Master's bedroom, sleep-rumpled and groggy, and seeing Harvey on the sofa passed out. It was a reversal of their current roles. He wanted, so badly, to _not_ be boss-and-associate. He yearned for something more. He's gone a long way from that pot-selling kid five years ago, the one that foolishly hid in Harvey's interview room with a briefcase full of pot, and was well on his way to climbing the ranks as a Junior Partner. Just a few more years and he would remove another barrier between them.

\---a lot like lovers

He superimposed the images he stored for Harvey in his mid-town condo in this condo. All those sleepless nights for the past five years, he's got a near-infinite amount of those images in his head. He can see Harvey going through the motion of making them dinner, a rare but not unheard of occasion, after winning a difficult case and pulling off what others thought was an impossible win. He loved those moments the most because Harvey was soft on the edges, relaxed, humming old jazz classics under his breath while he cooked them steaks and potatoes.

 _Fuck_ , he realizes belatedly that he was picturing his boss in his future home and they looked---domestic.

"Mike?" asked Harvey, peering at him. In his haze of thought, the brunette moved into Mike's personal space and was mere inches away from his face. Harvey's warm brown eyes were staring into his. Mike felt completely at a loss, out of control, as he focused his attention to Harvey's irises. They were dark and blown and the brown was thin along the rim of Harvey's eyes.

"Fuck" he breathed, unintentionally, because his could stare into these eyes forever and die happy. He could smell the older man's cologne and after shave mixed with Harvey's latte-scented breath. He wanted to crash their lips together and lick into the older man's mouth, chasing the taste of coffee that still there. Then he'll toppled them over, on top of the fluffy faux-fur rug, and if he was lucky he could rut them both to completion. They'll spend the rest of the day pretending that there wasn't cooling cum on the inseams of their pants.

"Mike?"

The blond blinked, a few times, before he returned to himself.

"Where did you go?"

"Sorry" he apologized and rubbed the back of his head. "I guess I was a little... erhm, lost in thought...? You know me..." he feigned nonchalance "Me and my crazy brain. Sometimes I can't control it and it get away from me. Maybe that's the downside to this memory thing... haha... you know what Uncle Ben said to Peter, right? With great power comes great responsibility... and all that jazz..."

His boss merely quirked an eyebrow, puzzled, but he backed-off.

"So what was going on in that large brain of yours?"

 _I may or may not have been fantasizing of us fucking on the sofa_ , Mike's traitorous brain supplied. He shook the thought away. "I, ehrm, uh... dinner." he stammered out.

"Dinner?"

"Y--yeah... " he bit his lip and wrung his hands. "I was thinking about the nice breeze and how it would be if I start holding my own dinner parties. Nothing big or special. Just couple of guys and girls from the firm around the coffee table with a lot of cheap red elixir and a deck of playing cards. Hey!" he lifted his shoulders and wiggled his eyebrow "What can I say? I'm stepping up in the world. Maybe I'll invest in a real life-sized game of twister and see which one of them can do a pretzel. I know people who do yoga."

"Donna would _not_ show you that move even if you threatened her life." Harvey corrected with a smug expression. "One; did you just confess to fantasizing about Donna in yoga pants? Two; What are you a _child_? Twister is a game and not a proper investment. The value of the game decreases with every game. Fifty percent down after you opened the vacuum seal on the box"

"A; no, I was not talking about Donna." _I was fantasizing you in those tight black jeans when we ambushed those twinks in a night club_ , Mike said in his mind. "B; It's a figure of speech. You know, it's a thing they invented that old poets used to liven up their dreary drabbles? C; I know what investments are and which ones are income generating and which ones passively rise in value. But that wasn't what I meant when I used the word. You got it wrong on both accounts, councillor, may I suggest you take a recess? I was trying to be comedic and you're being a hardass."

***

Donna's choice was a bust, which does not happen very often, and neither of them have the heart to tell her, explicitly, that the whole Christian Prep School neighbourhood was not their thing. They have to---

Harvey floored the breaks and stopped the car abruptly. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

 _When had he started thinking of this house hunting thing as_ their _thing_?

_\---a Harvey and Mike thing._

"Shit."

The jerk caused Mike to jerk against his seat, mid-sentence, flailing his arms on the dashboard to save his head from a nasty bruise.

"What the hell was that for, dude?" the younger bit out with a huff. "You could've given me a concussion or something! _And_ caused an accident with the car behind you. You're lucky that it isn't an old lady driving or she would have totally towed your bumper with her fender. Then the prissy club will totally _have_ revoke your membership 'cause you totalled the car!"

"Shut up." Harvey shot back sounding harsher than he intended. He regretted it immediately. "No, that not what I---" but Mike's face was enough to say it all. The younger man's expression was schooled into passivity, a look that never fails to make Harvey's chest clench like something was holding his heart hostage.

"No, you're right. This whole condo thing is a stupid idea." Mike sneered venomously. Blue eyes glared with unbridled fury. "I know that there are a hundred and forty-six way that you want to do on your Saturdays off. You can be prancing around in your luxury condo or have a morning meeting with last night's romp, right now. If you hate the idea of having to _go with me_ so much than you shouldn't have volunteered to accompany me in the first place!" He protested.

"I can take Rachel, or Donna, or _Harold_ if I wanted company. I do have other friends, you know, that aren't failures." He huffed, appearing for all the world like a petulant child. "And unlike you, they won't demean me for my choices because it doesn't meet your ludicrous standards. And it's unfair because..." _you know how much your opinion matters to me and I hate being a disappointment to you_ "... not everyone can live the Harvey Specter lifestyle." He ran his hands over his face then ruffled his hair. "You know what, Harvey? I think I should just go. I'll catch the subway... thanks for the ride."

Mike climbed out of the passenger side door before Harvey could get another word out.

"Shit"

The car behind him honked like an elephant.

***

Harvey arrived home to his empty condo a little after ten in the evening. He went out to a bar after the fight with Mike in the car. He drank a few drinks, flirted with a few women but, in the end, none of them interested him. They didn't have the witty comebacks or obscure movie quotes. They didn't have the same sparkles like Mike's cerulean blue eyes or Mike's funny laugh. They didn't share the history he had with Mike. He pushed them all away because they weren't Mike. He could never find a substitute for the young brash over-the-top associate who still wore his heart on his sleeve like a first year rookie.

The emptiness never used to bother him so much. It was fine before Mike came along and started living off Harvey's sofa during their heavy cases. He hadn't realized how much he had grown used to having Mike around his apartment; the extra pair of leather shoes by the door, jacket draped over a dining room chair, and skinny tie long forgotten on the coffee table. He missed the noise that Mike would make while shuffling through the files like a human search engine, the smell of pizza that nearly always accompanied Mike when they worked a long night, and the sight of his associate sleeping face down and without a doubt drooling on his sofa.

Without Mike, this place didn't feel like home.

Fuck, Harvey froze.

 _Since when had Mike become his home_?

Donna's choice was not half-bad. If he were thinking of starting a family and laying down roots, he would have probably chosen the same place. But he was a single man who was helplessly taken with his decade-younger associate; the age gap and the obvious power imbalance made him doubt that there could be anything more between them. Despite his more rational judgement, Harvey couldn't help thinking that the East Riverside condo was---nice and well-decorated. The fight was a pity because things during the open house went so well.

He had gone on a limb and introduced themselves as a couple which strangely got no more than a single complaint from the blond. Mike has actually _blushed_ at the thought.

The rest of the condo was tastefully dressed as well. With large French windows and an open layout. The selection of furniture was a little vintage but would fit well with his old turntable tucked away in a corner, framed by the city view. It was lower than his current view which loomed over the city but with Mike's silhouette against the backdrop, Harvey could not have cared less for the landscape beyond the glass walls, not if he had a certain young man inside wearing his old Harvard shirt and a flimsy pair of boxers.

He caught himself drifting in a daydream on more than one instance---Mike in his loose denim shirt and dark jeans, boots kicked off and abandoned at the foot of the couch, rumpled and mouth kiss-swollen. He thought about pushing Mike against the bar, divesting the kid of his jeans and blowing him on top of the granite counter, hands testing the limits of Mike's biker thighs and challenging his prided flexibility. If he was good, Harvey would push him on his back and eat him out without preamble or lube and taste the flavour that was distinctly _Mike_ \---He'd been imagining what Mike tasted like for more than we was willing to admit.

Then, he'd take Mike again in the bedroom. Then, in the large two-person bathtub. Then again, in the dining room table where people eat and it would be their own dirty secret whenever Mike blushed during dinner. After all of that was done, they would retreat to the bedroom and he would lay Mike down in the middle of the bed and they would make sweet, sweet, love until the first rays of sunlight.

\--and then, shit, Harvey just admitted in his head that he was in-love with Michael James Ross.

"Fuck."

***

It's another month--three weeks--before they go out hunting again. This time, it was at Harvey's urging. The period between the fallout to the recovery was long and awkward with Donna giving them both judgemental glances from her cubicle. Harvey was thankful, for the first time, that Senior Associate's offices were on a different floor. He does not know how much work he would be missing and not-accomplishing if he so much as caught wind of his puppy and the paralegal playing footsie under the table. He shuddered at the image and forced his brain to push it aside.

They stopped in front of a colossal architectural building made of glass on all sides that stuck-out like a sore thumb in the Manhattan Skyline. Located along Park Avenue, the place was bustling with people even at nine am in the morning. It was no surprise because they easily eyed an artisanal bakery, a  Fresh&Co grocery store, and Starbucks, across the street from the towering building. It looked---

"---expensive" Mike said as they exited the town car. "Harvey, I really appreciate you coming out here to help me find a place but this one looks a little more like _you_ than me." He clutched his messenger bag, feeling self-conscious and small because of two things; first, was the building itself which was a sculpture rather than a structure, and two, they never really talked his outburst the _last_ time they did this. They continued along the line, playing itself, and kept things strictly professional in the office.

Harvey rolled his eyes and straightened his black Henley which clung to his chest and stretched over his shoulders. He paired it with dark dungarees, heavy midnight blue suede boots, and a classic round silver-plated Philip Stein. His casual clothes were ready to wear but still from designer labels. It paid to be indulgent in the well-known brands because they were tailored to make anyone look good. He knew he was handsome in general so it'd be such a waste if he didn't flaunt it.

"Indulge me, rookie." He told the other as he led them through the ostentatious glass door. High two-storey ceilings with an elegant crystal chandelier that mimicked falling rain shone over their head.

" _Monsieur Specter_?" a polished young brunette wearing an expensive-looking suit greeted them. "My name is Adrien and I'll be your _aide a la vente_ " he introduced himself with a large, beaming smile which showcased his perfect row of white teeth, and a French accent that was better than Mike's. He glowed when he spoke and offered a manicured hand to Harvey. Then turned and spotted Mike. "Ahh, and you, I presume are _Monsieur Ross_? The person M.Specter was talking about."

"H--hi" the blond greeted back, unsure of himself.

"Relax, Mike" Harvey whispered beside his ear, pressing close to behind Mike and a hand on the younger man's lower back. "It's just like the previous condos that we've looked at. If you don't feel like you can live in it, then we can move on and find something else. Okay?"

Without the will to speak, the other merely nodded.

There was a sky lounge on the 27th floor with spectacular views of Manhattan, indoor and outdoor seating, and a grill on the terrace.

"On most days..." Adrien explained as he led them through the bright space. "the sky lounge is a common area which can be enjoyed by any of our condo owners and up to two guests per unit. It can be rented out as an event venue, a privilege only awarded to our owners, for gatherings up to fifty people. There's no corkage fee and we have a selected number of catering partners, as well as accredited affiliations which can operate inside the condo. The roof and floors are extra coated so as to ensure that other owners will not be disturbed by the noise."

The unit they were shown was at the front of the building on the 28th floor with the same magnificent view of the city. It opened up to and L-shaped corridors: one leading to the bedrooms and the other leading to the rest of the condo. The layout of the kitchen/dining/living room was irregular and slanted---and a breathtaking view of the cityscape through the clear wall windows. It was so _open_ like the whole world could peer down at any moment and see them inside. The view reminded Harvey of his own condo and those large open windows was one of the reasons why be bought the place.

He may, or may not, have an exhibitionist streak once in a blue moon.  

This area though, he thought, as he strode near the oblique corners to take in the panoramic view. He will have Mike's silhouette against the descending sunset, oily palm marks smudging up the pristine glass windows, and moan reverberating off the weird angles. They would test the industrial strength glass against a night of raging passion spent between them. He would love the thrill that came when he pushed his lover against the wall, trapping the other man's cock against the cool surface, while Harvey took him to town all through the night. He wondered what would it _feel_ like if he saw the glass painted with streak of thick white which descended slowly to the floor. They'd have to lay down a down a towel to save the wood.

"Harvey?" Mike's voice broke him free of his reverie. "What's wrong... you seem off?"

"It's nothing" he lied, already picturing how his white lounge set would fit into the space, the flat-screen that he would mount on the wall, and the shelves of records which he could put in the nook by the entry way. He would love to see Mike in this space with the added thrill that there were _two_ walk-ins, one for each of them or perhaps they'd mix and arrange their clothes in casual vs formal, special vs regular, everyday vs special occasion. Or perhaps---

Harvey stopped. He was really beginning to be slow on the uptake because, for the first time, he realized that he had just spent that last half-hour mentally deciding where and how their things would mix and mingle. What surprised him more was his own willingness. He belatedly admitted that he would change addresses in a heartbeat for Mike, if it meant staying in on weekend and waking up to a gorgeous blond man that he's long fallen in-love with.

"Erhm, what do you think about this place, Mike?"

The other man contemplated for a short while. He was leaning against the island countertop on his forearms while Harvey was in the living area, back against the view so they can talk face-to-face.

"I don't know, Harvey." he admitted absently because he was too busy dreaming of how this place could be theirs and how it might feel _nice_ to come home to Harvey after a long day's work. They'd sit on Harvey's old couch which they brought when they moved in and listen to Gordon Specter's classic jazz album on the heirloom turntable underneath his panda painting. Their things could look nice together and they can always buy a few more items just to balance everything out.

"Honest opinion then" the older man prompted, leaning casually against the glass with one ankle crossed over the other.

Mike wanted to climb that man like a tree.

"Honest opinion then." He parroted back and shrugged. "It's a little too _you_ like I said before. It's all fancy and classy and _bright_. I don't think I've ever had this much sunlight in my old place and it's completely different. You're more clean, straight, and polished while I like them a little messy, crooked, and weird. I mean I have a painting of a _Panda Eating Bamboo_. Do you believe, for even a second, that it would fit in a place like this? I feel like I'm in your condo only with less things and more exposure. The neighbours could eat popcorn and _watch_ if I ever decided to have a quick romp in the living room! Fu---"

But it was too late because the lawyer had already heard him.

"Romp in the living room?" Harvey repeated with an amused tone. "We're both successful adults in here, Mike. You can say _fuck_ if you wanted to _fuck_ someone in your own living room."

The blond was conflicted because while his mouth salivated at the idea, his throat dried up like the Sahara. He dry-swallowed a few times before he could even muster up the courage to re-start a conversation. Of course, it was not the first time that he heard lewd things coming out of Harvey's mouth. The man was _Harvey_ , almost anything he said could be passed off as lewd, but it was the first time he heard Harvey say it with the same intent as its meaning and----fuck, he wanted to fuck the man so bad that his dick hurt from the pressure of his tight skinny jeans. He now regretted wearing them.

"I---I---" he broke off because he did _not_ have enough blood in his brain at the moment to think.

" _Monsieur Specter_?" Adrian called out when he came back. He eyed the pair, glancing from Harvey to Mike, then back to Harvey again. A twinkle in his eye meant that he must have been misreading the tension in the air. God, how many people kept on insisting that Harvey and Mike were a _thing_? They haven't even had sex yet and the rumour mills were going haywire. " _Je suis desole_. I must apologize but your appointment period is almost over. Have you decided if you're taking the unit? Or shall I bring in the next guests? I have another lovely couple downstairs waiting to their turn to view the unit."

"Mike?" Harvey turned to the younger man for a sign. The other shook his head minutely. "Alright then" the brunette nodded. "I think we might need to discuss this in private before we commit to anything, Adrian. The condo is lovely and I'm sure that the next couple will think the same. I have your card and your contact information. I'll have my assistant call you if we decided to buy this place. Then, we can look over the contracts and financials. Is there a time limit to the offer?"

Adrian shook his head and tried to hide his disappointment. From what, Mike could not pinpoint, whether it was from the lack of a sale or the fact that Harvey referred to _them_ as a pair because the young aid had been openly flirting with Harvey the entire time that he was showing them around. A couple of times, he had intervened by placing a hand on Harvey's shoulder or another type of casual touch. The older man did not seem to mind.

"We sell our units at a first come first serve basis. If you wish, you may reserve the unit for a non-refundable reservation fee."

This time, it was Mike who answered him.

"No, thank you, that won't be necessary." he cut in, his erection wilted enough to strain his jeans when he sauntered over to Harvey. He might have leaned a little too close but the other man did not call him on it so he continued. "Do you think we have enough time to look at another place today? It's only lunch time and we don't have work to do this afternoon, right?"

"We don't" Harvey agreed. "But I didn't book any other appointments today. I was betting on this place."

"Oh" the boy's face was playful. "What do I win 'cause you lost the bet?"

The older man laughed. "I'll buy you lunch. You're choice."

"Awesome!"

***

They end up in a small hole-in-the-wall bar/restaurant along E41st Street. It was a small place with bad lighting and the smell of food permeating through the dining area. At half past one in the afternoon, there was few people eating lunch. Their menu, or rather lack of a decent food selection, primarily consisted of burgers and bar snacks. They took seats by the bar, hopping up on the tall copper-coloured bar stools with their thighs lightly pressed together. A football match was playing on the large LED screen above the barman.

Mike ordered burgers, no surprise there, and a tall pint of Guinness.

"Isn't it a little too early to get drunk, Rookie?" Harvey question without steel after he ordered fish and chip for himself. "and a draft" he called out to the barman.

"Slumming it, Harvey?" the blond quipped jokingly, hiding his surprise because Harvey ordered something _cheaper_ than he did which _never_ happened.

"It's an old trick" Harvey explained going over the menu and pointing to the label which proudly declared the bar's 'unique blend of homemade hand-crafted beer'. "Places like this use their old drafts in the beer batter for the chips. If you buy their draft, you order their fish and vice-versa. Got that, kid?"

"You are a strange man, boss."

They ate in comfortable silence, absently watching the game while they chewed their food. They didn't talk about what had transpired in 440 Park Ave. or the look that Adrian had given them when they walked away. They talk about small things, about work, about their current cases in hushed tones. They talk about the new PSL management evaluation matrix which stops the higher-ups from hazing the little fish in the food chain.

"Mike!" a voice startles them both. "Harvey!"

"Tom!" The lawyers say in unison.

Tom Clapper, the client that Harvey once stole from Paul Porter, greets them with a big smile. He claps his hand over Mike's shoulder and pull the senior associate in a man-hug. "Fancy meeting a pair of big shot Mahanttan lawyers like you guys in a local place like this. I figured you big guns would for the steak house down the road. What're you doing here?"

Mike laughed and returned the man-hug with two stiff pats on Tom's back. "That would be my fault, actually." he said with a chuckle. "I was thinking of moving and was looking around the area for a condo. We just came from the building along 29th that looked like the castle of Krypton! Like a gigantic alien planet in the middle of Manhattan. I was secretly waiting for Superman to zoom by. Harvey here" he motioned "offered to help be scout a place."

"How's that been going on for you?"

The young man frowned. "Not too well, to be honest."

"What didja have in mind?"

"Two-bedrooms. Single-floor layout. Nothing to fancy but an elevator would be nice so I don't have to drag my bike up a flight of stairs anymore... I guess that's about it. I'm not really very picky. I just haven't had any lucky with it, I guess."

"Hmmmm..." Tom makes a non-committal hum while he wolfs down his burger. "I think I might know a place."

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure." the other man said, off-handed. "I don't want to ruffle my own feathers but we just finished building a new place over a block away. That's actually why I'm here. Nothing fancy, like you said, but the building's got that old soul feeling that you might be looking for and since I'm the contractor, we can talk about customizing the finishing if you like the place. If you guys are free now, I can offer to show you around."

Mike's entire face brightened exponentially. "Please, please tell me that this isn't a dream" he lifted his chin and prayed. "You're not joking, are you, Tom?"

 "Come on then. Buyers won't be able to see it for another six months or so. It'll be an exclusive visit."

Just as promised, the building was a mid-rise with sixteen floors but divided into only nine units. Tom took them to the 3rd floor, unit C, that was designed to have three-bedrooms. The additional bedroom meant that it was bigger than the other condos that they've viewed so far with the exception of the very first one. It was still in the finishing-stage of development so most of the space was covered with dusty plastic sheets and exposed drywalls.

Mike fell in-love the moment his crossed the threshold.

"This can be a home office! Can you imagine it, Harvey?" he strode into a cosy roomed tucked away in the corner of the living room. "Or a library for all my books. I've never had a library before... or a home office... and there's space for a work table too so case files don't have to migrate into the bedroom anymore..." he rambled on and on with an exuberant expression that made Harvey's heart flutter, only half-listening to the flood of words which rushed through Mike's mouth.

It was nice but Mike felt like something was missing. He had more space than he could possibly imagine. There would be enough room for Grammy _and_ a spare bedroom in case any of his friends need a place to crash. It wasn't the open-space layout like the others that they've seen and it was okay because he was used to the box-y feeling that came with living inside his old apartment. The living room was huge, though, and he could visualize Harvey's flat-screen in the centre--

"...then we can have your turn table here and---"

"What did you say?" the older man caught the man off-guard, mid-ramble.

The Senior Associate froze. He had not realized that he could have been saying half those things aloud. It seemed Harvey only heard the last part and he let a sigh of relief.

"It's nothing."

"You said turntable." the man pointed out "You listen to crap music on your phone. Or you blast it through your speaker. You _don't have_ a turn table, Mike..."

It was nice but Harvey felt like it was too small. In exchange for his fantastic 40th floor view in his coveted midtown address, he expected a little more _pizzazz_ to come with the new condo. His life had changed dramatically over the last five years. He's allowed more and more people into his life beyond just Donna and Jessica and Marcus. He even went as far as calling his mother one Christmas, two years ago. At his age, he was craving to settle down, find a long-term partner, and perhaps downshift his gears to a more peaceful life. He'd grown tired of the endless hustle and bustle of midtown. This place, in the middle of a residential district, might be the place to him and Mike.

Maybe, there was hope for him after all.

"No, Harvey, you didn't---" the other denied. "---I didn't..." he was red down to his neck, low-cut v-neck shirt not doing him any favours by exposing more skin. He glanced about the room hoping that Tom was in the area but he had no such luck even now. The contractor had left them a few minutes ago to check on a other areas of the project. He looked away. "Please, Harvey... don't say anything about it. I mean... we've been working together for years and it hasn't changed how we work... so, please..." he shifted on the balls of his feet and readied himself to flee at the first sign of rejection.

This was stupid--letting Harvey this close. Now, the thing that he held most dear was hanging in the balance. Harvey---he stood to lose Harvey and the thought killed him inside.

"Fuck. We are both idiots." Harvey murmured with an affectionate smile. "Come here, Mike, and kiss me."

"Hu---what?"

"Kiss me" the older man ordered with a smirk. "Or I can go over there, push you against the wall where you wanted to put my record player and kiss you stupid." He shrugged but made no move to lessen the paces between them. "Both choices seem lucrative to me. I am amenable to either of them. So... you're call, _rookie_."

Mike could not believe his ear. Did Harvey just---did he just---

"Are you propositioning me?" he asked dumbly. His dear-in-headlights should not have been so endearing but it was to Harvey.

"Yes."

"Fuck"

"Maybe later."

Then Mike threw his head back and laughed. He held his arms over his torso as his stomach cramped with exertion. "Atty. Harvey Specter, Senior Name Partner at Pearson Specter Litt, puts out on the first date. Why do I feel like I need to publish this on a tabloid?"

"Because you are a child." the other man shot back. "And good children receive rewards. So tell me, Mike, will you be a good boy for me?" The question completely, and utterly, undid Mike. The blond falls to his knees on the exposed concrete and allowed the trembles take over his body.

" _Fuck_ " he breathed out, wrapping arms around himself in order to calm down. It was not until he feels the strong steady weight of Harvey's arms around him that he managed to do so. He glanced up and looked at Harvey through half-lidded eyes, begging, praying, hoping that--- "please don't let all of this be just a dream. You have no idea how long I wanted it to be you, Harvey. But I kept thinking that you would never want me."

"I want you" Harvey reaffirmed. "I may have wanted you since the first time I saw you but I couldn't be sure because... I'm so much older than you Mike and I didn't want you to---this, us---to make you feel like you owed it to me to reciprocate." He clutched onto Mike's shoulders and brought the younger man's face to his chest. He slid his face down Mike's neck and breathed in heavily through his nose because he can without hesitation allow the scent that was pure Mike overwhelm him.

"Harvey? Mike?" Tom's voice came from the entry way and forced them apart. "What's wrong with Mike? Did something happen?" he asked after he noticed the blond man was pale.

"He just needs a little air." Harvey covered. "Can---can you take us to see the roof top? The wind will probably do him more good. He's a little jumpy in confined spaces."

Tom nodded. "Let's go. No one is up there right now."

As promised, the private rooftop terrace was empty.

"Oh my god. There's a pool." was the first thing that Mike was able to say when they were left alone. "Over there" he pointed to the right. "What's supposed to be a pool, right?"

"Our condo" Harvey answered without an ounce of shame or uncertainty.

"Our---" the younger man turned to him with a curious expression. Bit by bit, the snarky young blond which Harvey had grown to love and cherish came back. He cocked to the side with both palms planted firmly on his hips. He gave the older man a teasing look before moving forward and closing the distance between then. "My, my, my..." he teased while he ran his hands up Harvey's sides, inside the suit jacket and along the other man's waistcoat. "Aren't you a little presumptuous? You're asking me to go steady _and_ move in with you all in one go. We haven't even gone out on a date yet!" he said, leaning forward so that their lips nearly brush.

Harvey growled. "We're been dating for years, Mike. The entire firm possibly believes that we've been screwing since the day we met."

"And that never bothered you?"

"Neither has it you."

The blond smiled and began a warm trail of kisses down the side of Harvey's jaw. His hands removing the tucked portion of the older man's shirt from his pants underneath the jacket and waistcoat. Cold fingers brush against the sensitive warm flesh of Harvey's lower back, eliciting a delicious tremble from the other man. "Let's go home and you can take me to bed."

Harvey cupped Mike's face and brought their lips together. It was soft and unhurried like they were taking their sweet time for all the moments that they have lost to denial. Years. For years both of them have been denying _this_ \---the attraction, the emotion, the bond which brought them together and had been cultivated by every case, every challenge, every person that has come between them. In five years their relationship has been tried more times than a couple whose been married for the same number of years. Rachel, Tess, Zoe, Scottie---none of them matter, all of them were practice for the real thing.

"I think" he panted then pressed their forehead together. "I think we already are home, Mike."

"You... you want to move here?"

"Yes. I want to more here with you."

"But what about your condo? The high-rise? You're willing to move out of that place to live _here_?"

Harvey thought for a moment and then nodded. He wrapped his arms around his new lover and brought them closer together as if every inch of space not touching Mike was a personal insult. "Not the one down stairs. I won't live in a smaller space that's _that_ closer to sea-level. I am not a cave man but this is good---the penthouse; the view, the privacy, all that space for to accommodate more company. We can turn one of the space bedrooms into a shared library for when we have to work late... and in case your associate inherits your habit of sleeping in their boss' condo."

"Sleeping in but not sleeping with."

They both laughed.

"That would be a cold day in hell before I let someone else steal you away from me."

"And how am I sure that _you_ won't like'em younger than me. You do have a thing for _puppies_ , don't you Harvey?"

"No, I do not unless they have blond hair, blue eyes, an eidetic memory, and a mouth that runs a hundred miles an hour without stopping."

"You're a sap." Mike said, jabbing him lightly on the shoulder. "So we are taking this then? The penthouse?"

"Yes. It'll be _our_ new home."

"It's funny that we choose the bastard lovechild of your condo and my apartment"

***

ONE YEAR LATER.

It took six months for the condo to be finished with their all the customizations and Harvey-approved fixtures to be installed. Then, another six months to buy all the furniture that they needed.

They built their home together.

"We should fuck" Mike mumbled into Harvey's jaw the moment that they entered the bedroom. "Like right now. Right here. Hard. Fast."

One of the benefits of the condo layout was that each floor was accessible via the elevator with each floor restricted through a key-locked access panel. It gave them privacy and the luxury to comfortably go through the four-storey space that was _theirs_ and theirs alone. So far, only the master bedroom has been fully furnished and they planned to Christen each and every bedroom as they fill-up the condo.

He dutifully raised his hands so his lover can remove his thin red cotton shirt and shivered as the cool hair hit his heated body. He moaned wantonly as Harvey trailed bruising kisses down the column of his neck, hands playing with his nipples and thigh grinding against his straining cock. He took his chance, while the older man was distracted, to grab the back of Harvey's thick dark tresses and pull hard, bringing their faces closer so he can look into those warm chocolate brown eyes when he says it.

"I love you, Harvey."

"I love you too, Mike."

"Then you should fuck me." He demanded sounding whiny and pleading but he chose not to care. "You should fuck me. Right here. Right now. Hard. Fast. Pin me down. Kiss me hard. And fuck me like you've never fucked someone before."

"Fuck, Mike" Harvey groused before crashing their lips together in a brutal kiss--all teeth and tongue and saliva.

It took away his breath. It felt like Harvey was intent on sucking out his soul with a kiss. It left him speechless, and breathless, and inarticulate, in the most delicious ways. It made him shut of his brain and stop thinking, stop panicking, stop worrying that this was all just a dream. It's been more six years since they first met, one year since they officially became an item, but it felt like an eternity. He cannot imagine, he cannot remember, the time when he did not have Harvey Specter in his life because Harvey Specter _was_ his life.

"You can't _say_ things like that."

"Why? Your old man sensibilities can't take it?"

Harvey ground his hips against Mike in response. Their erection lined up perfectly, clad in tight constricting jeans that should have been dealt with ages ago. He attacked Mike's neck with larger, open-mouth, bites which marked his lover's pale skin with red splotchy bruises and teeth-marks. He loved that the younger man wore in underneath his perfectly polished suits in court, in the firm, in their bedroom. The mere _knowledge_ of them being there sent a shrill up Harvey's spine when he thought about it.

"I'm going to fuck you." He said sounding ragged. "I'm going to fuck you until the only name you can remember is mine."

"Is that a challenge Harvey?" his lover grinned.

"It's a promise."

"I want you to fuck me raw." Mike begged as he wrapped a leg around the older man's waist to get a better angle. "The first time you fuck me in our new home. I want to be raw. Please, Harvey, I haven't been with anyone else since you. I want to feel you without the rubber. I want to feel your cum shooting inside my ass and filling me up. Then you'll clean me up in the bathtub and do it all over again. You don't know how much I love it when you cum inside me, when I feel you dripping out of my stretched hole, when there's nothing but us being together."

"Christ! _Michael_." the lawyer gnarled into his neck. Harvey fought with the button of Mike's jeans then _pulled_ , ripping it away from his partner's hips and legs and feet. Their footwear was kicked off minutes ago. "What did I just say? You _can't_ say things like that. I'm so hard that I can barely see straight and when you talk like that I might hurt you. I'm not a very patient man."

"You waited for me for years before you made a move."

"I'm never making that mistake again."

"Then come _on_ " Mike urged, grinding up again. "I'm gonna finish soon whether or not you fucking cum in my ass and I would really prefer option number two---oooh!" he gasped when he landed in the middle of their bed. It was a colossal custom-made bed which spanned nearly their entire wall, dwarfing the regular king-size in Harvey's old condo. The sheets were made-to-order Egyptian cotton with a thread count that would put hotel-grade linen to shame. " _Fuuuuuck_ " he groaned, feeling, at that moment, that he could sink in the sheets forever. "Harvey, you've got to fuck be soon or you're on your own."

The older man obliged, divesting them both of their clothes, ripping buttons and seams along the way. They'll have to go shopping soon for new clothes because he was going through their cabinets like a frenzied man in the past few days leading up to-- _here_ \--today. None of that matter. Everything else was inconsequential. He only needed Mike's skin, Mike's scent, Mike's shudders like a Mike Ross -shaped oasis in the long boring barren region of his life.

"Mike" he whispered his lover's name like a prayer. "Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike..."

"Harvey, fuck, _Harvey_ " the other answered each and every call. "Lube, _please_ , I know that I moved it there last weekend. The one you like that's outrageously expensive."

"I'm doing a bad job if you can still talk." Harvey bemused into Mike's belly before crawling over his lover to get the tube of lube. He shivered as Mike mouthed him, sucking on his head like some kind of obscene adult-only candy before tonguing his slit with a firm tongue. "Mike. This will be finished way too soon if you keep doing that." then he said the words the thought he would never say. "Get.Off.My.Cock... or so help me, I will cum down your pretty little mouth right now and this night will be over."

The other reluctantly pulled away and released him with an audible _pop_.

"And this lube is worth every penny 'cause it won't cause inflammation." he defended as he gripped the slim bottle in his fingers. "On your stomach."

"Ohhh, _daddy_ " Mike purred and ached up like a cat, causing Harvey's cock to trail a long sticky line of pre-cum down his neck, his chest, and his stomach. He remained on his back. He loved being marked by the man he loved. "Talk science to me. You know how hot I get when you _articulate_. I want to see you. Let me see you. That grunt-face you have when your finger-fucking me."

They both laughed as Harvey pressed a kiss on his mouth.

"Snarky as ever" Harvey murmured against Mike's lips. "Let's see what I can about that." Then, without warning nor preamble, he shoved a slick finger into his lover's tight channel up to the third knuckle while he pinned the blond man's legs with his arms and moved his fingers in a slow circular motion.

Toes curling, Mike threw his hands above his head and scramble for purchase. His fingers dented in their lush new pillows; he held on in a white-knuckle grip. The slight sting in his joints was a contrast to pleasure coursing up his spine like electricity. He wrapped his long lean legs around Harvey's shoulders to give his older lover a better access to his hole, fighting the trembling feeling that was zinging through down to his toes. Too much---with just one fingers.

Then, there was a second and a third. He was arching off the bed in wanton desperation. His heels dug onto the meat behind Harvey's shoulder causing the older man to hiss. "Fuck, sorry, your shoulder fuck."

"It's okay" the other man assured, repositioning Mike's leg on his shoulder. "Just a bit more, Mike, and I'll love you like I've never loved any one before you."

"Seriously?!" Mike bemoaned, spreading his arms eagle-wide to the sides. "Did you just quote something from a song while you're three-fingers deep inside me?" He exclaimed with a smile because, god, how he loved this geeky, cheeky, romantic man. The man never ceases to amaze him in the office, in court, or when they're all alone.

Harvey chuckled as he poured a liberal amount of lube on himself. "You betcha, baby." He said before plunging in deep with one smooth thrust and stopped only when Mike's cheeks rested on his thighs. His young lover was wreaked by a series of full-body shudders, hole gloriously fluttering around him like velvet butter. He waited for Mike's breathing to even out before he started his slow thrusting.

"Fuck me, Harvey, you're a sex-god!"

"And you talk way too much during sex." he complained. He shifted Mike's legs again, holding them with ankles crossed perpendicular to the bed. He used it as leverage as he began to thrust in earnest. The grip and the angle and the positioned forced Mike to tighten around his cock and it was one of the most pleasurable experiences of Harvey's life. He felt hands touch his ass lightly before Mike's blunt fingers _dug_ into the meat to urge him deeper.

They moaned and groaned and lost all coherent thought after that. They just _felt_ \---heat, sweat, thundering heartbeats. The roar of blood inside their veins, the need clawing in their bellies, and the gut-wrenching orgasm that spurted from their cocks.

Harvey collapsed on top of Mike---tired, sleepy, and sated.

Mike opened his arms and his legs so that Harvey could cuddle up to his chest.

They just ruined their first set of expensive Egyptian cotton sheets.

For now, it didn't matter.

Tomorrow, they would Christen every single room, in every and all position, in every and all surfaces.

But tonight, they slept cocooned in each other's embrace.   

***

SIX MONTHS LATER

"Russell! Come here, Russell. Come on, boy. Come to daddy~" Mike sing-songed in an effort to cajole the small two-toned Russell Terrier from underneath the living room couch. The small pup, just over four months old, had scrambled for cover after a series of pots and pans had fallen and Harvey's boisterous booming sailor's language echoed from the kitchen. "Come on. Come here boy."

"Michael" His grandmother smiled while she on _her_ unofficially official single which she had commandeered since the first night she slept over. "Your husband has a potty-mouth doesn't he."

"Nahh..." Mike denied, grinning as the puppy finally slid close enough that he caught it by the scruff. "He's just freaking out 'cause he dropped all those expensive triple-coated Teflon pans that we bought the other day. He's been dying to use them all week. He's not so bad, really."

"Oh, I know" She nodded affectionately as she continued knitting. She hummed along to the song by Blue Skies by Ella Fitzgerald.

It took an entire month of wheedling before Mike---and mostly Harvey's devastatingly fine ability to woo women--convinced Edith to stay over on the weekends. She had vehemently declined their offer to have her move-in because she was a social butterfly who craved the company of others and, ahem, she did not want to impede their sex life---she was very blunt about that point and caused Mike to blush for the rest of the afternoon.

Tonight was only Friday, the eve of Mike's birthday, and the blond had insisted that they pick her up from the centre early. She eventually conceded.

"It's been a long time since we celebrated your birthday at home, haven't we, Michael?"

The man absently nodded as he stroked the puppy's hair. Russell has been an advanced birthday present from Harvey who surprised Mike, out of his not-so-skinny bones, when he came home one evening with a small cage with a blue bow. One of the first things he'd noticed since moving in together 'officially' was the well-loved stuffed animal which he'd given Mike on the rookie's first Christmas as a gag-gift. It has been hugged and cuddled and squeezed so many times that it had lost all initial stiffness and flopped down like another one of their pillows.

Mike was ecstatic and spent the entire weekend googling puppy products on his laptop. Benjamin only called him on it once.

Russell was now as much a part of their lives as the condo.

"Yeah" the blond nodded dumbly. The last time they celebrated together was his second year in the firm. After that it was missed birthdays or delayed celebrations whenever Mike had free time on his hands. It had only gotten much worse when he was promoted as Senior Associate and began trying cases on his own. Last year, they celebrated in Grammy's home with a small cupcake and a cold serving of take-away pasta. But that last time that he celebrated his birthday with _family_ was when he was eight--that was twenty-four years ago.

"I'm happy that it was him" she told him fondly. "I've never seen you this happy since you were a child."

Russell barked along in agreement.

"See?" she gave him a pointed look. "Even the puppy agrees with me, Michael. Give him here. Yer ol' granny can take care of him for a few minutes while you two make dinner." she offered, opening up her arms for him to deposit the dog on her lap. "Don't worry, if you raised him right then he won't bite me."

With a sigh, Mike finally nodded. She used _that_ tone on him, the one which meant that there was no way out of convincing her otherwise once she made up her mind. Tonight, she wanted him to go make his own birthday dinner with Harvey in the kitchen. "Alright. Alright. No need to be push, Grammy." He settles Russell in her arms who preens once she started stroking his head.

She shot him a _see?_ look.

"I'll go help Harvey. If we're lucky, we can eat before midnight" he said cheekily before skipping out of the room. Harvey had his back towards the door when Mike peered into the kitchen. The older man had dressed-down to undershirt and a pair of sweatpants. A large black apron hung around his neck and looped around his waist. The younger of the pair could not help but smile because he knew that if his lover turned around he would read ' _a Vulcan in the streets and a Klingon in the sheets_ '. His own apron was a novelty and unoriginal ' _kiss the Chef_ ' even if he rarely cooked.

"Knock, knock" he said with two taps on the wood. "Hey, captain, do you need any help?"

Harvey turned around, hair loose from its gel-cage and bangs falling on his face, cheeks flushed from the steam of the boiling pot, and smile tenderly at him. The young man pretended to swoon as he walked towards his boss, his friend, and his lover. Domestic Harvey was Mike's favourite Harvey, followed second by KickAss Lawyer Harvey, and closely followed by Grammy's Harvey. Yes, the third one emerged after he saw the pair chuckling over old records.

"I'm pretty much finished." the man answered. He lowered the wooden spoon and wiped his hand on a hand towel. "Is Grammy good with taking care of Russell?"

"Yeah" Mike replied, moving closer. He did not stop until he could wrap his arms around the older man's waist and kiss the five o'clock shadow on Harvey's jaw. "Thank you" he mumbled into Harvey's skin.

"For what?" Harvey looked puzzled.

"For this" the other gestured to the room, and by extension their condo, in general. "For us."

Harvey kissed him on the temple and mirrored his embrace. "Mike, you don't have to thank me. Don't say that. Don't act as if you're the only one who got lucky in this relationship. You are young, smart, and brilliant. The greatest lawyer on the rise on his way to becoming a Senior Partner soon."

The blonde snorted. "As if I have the cash to pay the buy-in."

"Oh, you'll be surprised how much you actually have now." Harvey laughed. "But you listen to me, Michael James Ross, don't thank me for being with you, for moving in with you, for falling in-love with you because I did all of that on my own volition. I did all those things for  me too. So don't act like you owe me anything because I owe you the world for bringing so much happiness in my life. That even Lily has mentioned it over the phone. Can you believe that? And Marcus said the same. Don't thank me because what's here" he pressed a kiss to Mike's temple "and here" a palm of Mike's heart before he grinned "and here" he skimmed the front of Mike's pants.

"You are enough of a reward."

Mike couldn't suppress the grin that blossomed on his face. "You're a sap" he declared as he pulled Harvey into a kiss. "You're my sap" he added before he leaned in for a second one. He ran his fingers to mess up the brunette's hair, wrapped a leg up his lover's waist, and clawed at the non-permeable fabric of the apron covering.

"And---" he whispered against Harvey's lips.

He found it---what had been missing, the thing that bothered him from the very first time they tried scouting for a place in Brooklyn, the thing that _wasn't there_. He had found what he had been looking for all this time and it was been with him all along. He had found what has been missing in his home and in his life. The empty space that took the shape of one Harvey Specter.

Harvey has always been there for him.

Harvey will always be there for him.

"---I think you burned the spaghetti sauce."

Harvey wasn't perfect but he was home.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried. I desperately tried to write _just **smut**_ but then all these _feelings_ came pouring out from nowhere and then BOOM the 3k ficlet _exploded_ into a full-length story. This had got to be my favourite Mike/Harvey interactions, so far, because  they have actual lines in this one. It's not my regular writing style, what do you guys think?
> 
> [Prompt me here!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/arh581958)


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